Elricest Challenge: 100 fics
by Noodleslove
Summary: [yaoi] [shounenai] [gen] This will, eventually, be a 100 chapter Elricest fic, each chapter containing a new story. Please see my profile for an explanation. :3
1. Crackerbox Palace

**Prompt:** 059 -Crackerbox Palace Genre: Gen Rating:G 

_While growing up or trying to _

_Not knowing where to start _

_I looked around for someone who _

_May help reveal my heart_

-Crackerbox Palace

0o0o0o0o0o

When I was younger I was always trying to understand the world around me because Brother was always trying to understand it. Things like science, math and alchemy. Tangible things. Logical and realistic things. This may have been the reason Brother didn't like some of the questions that I asked him as we were growing up.

"Brother, what are emotions?" I would ask him.

With his nose pressed in the pages of a book, Brother would always be so absorbed in the world of paper and ink that I would often have to repeat my questions before I got any reaction.

"Brother, what are emotions?"

He would turn his head slowly toward me with his eyes still scanning the worn and smudged pages of the text. Reluctantly he would finally tear them away to look in my direction.

"What do you mean, 'what are emotions?'" he would say in a slightly impatient voice, though I never took it personally. When Brother was started on one train of thought he was loath to jump onto another so suddenly.

"I mean, what are emotions? Are they…" I would roll my eyes upward while I looked for a proper explanation as though I would find the words written on the ceiling.

Brother would then mark his page and set the worn leather book down on the floor, waiting for clarity.

I would fidget a little, uncomfortable under the pressure to try and grasp the words I knew were in me, but my awkward tongue and young mind found it difficult to express them.

"Well, what I mean is… well, when I fall and scrape up my knees and hands it hurts. It hurts my body, right?"

Brother would nod.

"But, but if Brother called me a name or, or was mean to me it would hurt my heart in here," I would say, grasping tightly onto my T-shirt over the left side of my chest.

"And when I get scared, it makes my hair stand up and my stomach twists and aches."

Brother would furrow his brow thoughtfully.

"So, emotions: What are they?" Are they physical, like when I scrape a knee? When I get sad is it really my heart that is hurting, or is it something else?"

Brother would open his mouth to speak and close it without uttering a word. Open, close. Maybe his words were written on the floor, rather than the ceiling, as he stared down and scanned the lines of the wooden floorboards.  
"If emotions aren't physical," I continued, "why would my body hurt? Does a person need a body to feel, or… just something else?"

Finally, Brother would simply say, "Hmm, I wonder?" and turn back to his book.

I was disappointed then that Brother didn't have an answer for me. To me, if anyone would have an answer, above all others, it would have been him, despite his disinterest in dealing with illogical things.

But looking back I know that a child could never have been able to answer a question like, 'what are emotions?'

I myself, have yet to answer the question, or understand where emotions come from. But I do know that a soul by itself is able to feel. My heart may not clench painfully when I am sad; I might not be able to cry tears of grief, or even happiness. My stomach doesn't twist and ache when I'm scared or nervous either. But I still have those emotions, imperfect though they may be without any sensation. My heart may not be there physically, but a heart must exist in a soul, because a soul is all I have, being bound now to a suit of armor.

I may not have a body and my emotions may be imperfect, but I still have my soul. That soul makes me, "me". I believe it makes me human; makes me real. And as long as my Brother believes it too, I can find a way to continue walking forward until I can make my emotions perfect once more.


	2. In My Life

Prompt: 072 - In My Life, Genre: Fluff, Rating: PG Warning: Contains SPOILERS for the whole series, INCLUDING the movie! 

_Though I know I'll never lose affection _

_For people and things that went before _

_I know I'll often stop and think about them _

_In my life I love you more_

-In My Life

0o0o0o0o0o0

Edward often had time to stop and think about the life he had left behind in Amestris. Though he had a mission on Earth to recover the uranium bomb, the time between the few leads he could recover was slow and easy, so there were certainly many moments of quiet recollection.

He would sit in a corner café quietly, sipping coffee and reminiscing about Resembool, his hometown and the place he grew up. After becoming an alchemist he didn't often go back there, but it was still an important part of his life.

He left many people behind as well. His "family" in Resembool; Winry and Granny Pinako, the members of the State Military; Mustang and Riza and all the rest. Without their assistance, which Edward found to be a nuisance more often than not, he knew his life would have been altered drastically. And because he could live contently, he was begrudgingly grateful for their constant interference.

Many times he would sit on a grassy hill and watch people walking to-and-fro on the streets below him going about their daily lives. Edward couldn't help but wonder what all his friends were doing right at that moment; were they shopping too, or cooking meals, or talking walks through quiet parks? What would he himself be doing, had he been back in Amestris? Would he be training, or maybe fishing? Would he have found a new quest, or a new goal to achieve?

Edward would get lost in his dark thoughts and brood, worry lines etched across his forehead. It could be lonely sometimes, sitting alone in a completely foreign world. Going to a new town could be stressful because things were unfamiliar, but going to a whole other world, it was incomprehensible how overwhelming everything seemed when you knew next to nothing about everything.

He would sit and stare down at all those people and feel hopeless. It was hard to be just one person among so many millions in such a big world.

He would sit and feel hopeless and lost in despair until a voice would call out to him and suddenly his life became impossibly brighter, and all those distressing thoughts would abandon him as though they had never existed.

"Brother! I was looking all over for you! I thought you went to get coffee?" Alphonse yelled out as he ran across the verdant ground.

Edward beamed as he saw his brother running toward him, his long hair whipping out behind him. "I'm sorry, I just felt like people watching, I guess," he shrugged apologetically.

"It's alright," Alphonse said, as he seated himself on the ground. "You were just gone for longer than I expected so I thought I should look for you."

Edward reached around Alphonse's back to twist his fingers in his caramel-coloured hair. "I wouldn't go too far. We're all we've got in this whole world, you know."

Alphonse rested his head lightly on Edward's shoulder. "I guess that's true, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing, Brother."

Edward smiled. "No, it doesn't. In fact, I couldn't think of anything better in this, or any world, Al," He said, his words muffled as his spoke into the top of his brother's head. Alphonse always smelled sweet, like lemons and oranges.

And as he sat there with his brother on his shoulder, a warm breeze whispering softly around them and people peacefully going about their business, Edward knew that a life in Amestris with all the places and people he had ever known would be unbearable without Al there. Edward could make a home anywhere, in any world, and leave everything he had ever held dear behind without a second thought as long as he always had his brother by his side. He would love Alphonse, always, completely, forever, and more than anything else.


	3. Die for You

**Prompt:** 046 - Die for you. Genre: Angst. Rating: G 

Notes: If the tone is confusing or rushed, that was the intention. I can only imagine how difficult and confusing it must be to be in love with a sibling. It would be hard to think rationally, in any case. Anyway. I left the ending open because I want people to interpret it as a happy or sad ending, whichever they prefer.

_I know I shouldn't love you _

_There's just too much to fake _

_But you see me and I feel you _

_And I am not afraid _

_I'm not afraid_

-Die for you

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Alphonse hated himself for the feelings he kept locked tightly inside like a dangerous demon, clawing and scratching its way to freedom. Every time he glanced at his brother, saw a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, a cold glint of steel or a bright smile flashed in his direction his stomach would flip. And then his skin would crawl. He was disgusted with himself.

He shoved the feelings down. Swallowed that sick feeling down his throat, past his heart, into the pit of his stomach and grounded it through his feet.

He tried, he really tried so hard, but a vision would flash into his mind and burn itself into his eyes.

Brother was swimming in the lake.

Brother was training in the field.

Brother was tying up his hair.

Brother was taking off his clo-

Alphonse always shook his head violently when these thoughts crashed their way in, trying to force them out, out, out. Out of his head, out of his heart, out of the pit of his stomach.

He shook his head and glanced around the street furiously, viciously, painfully for anything, anything at all to concentrate on.

Think about cars. Think about cars. Brother likes to drive, though he isn't very good at it. Brother-

No, no, think of anything, anything else.

There's a cat there. Think about cats. It's really cute, but Brother won't let me keep one, because Brother-

No, stop it. Stop it, Dammit!

Hot angry tears sprang to his eyes and dug his hands into them until stars appeared in his vision, rubbed brutally at his face 'til his skin turned raw and red.

His brother turned, noticing Alphonse falling out of step and jogged to his side. When he touched Alphonse's shoulder it was like electric heat scorching through his blood. It shocked all of his nerves to life, suddenly and intensely.

Alphonse jerked himself away so quickly he almost lost his balance and staggered backward into a street lamp.

"What in the name of hell is the matter with you Al?"

Cover your tracks, don't look suspicious.

"S-Sorry, Brother. I got something in my eye, it's irritating. And you just surprised me when you touched me. That's all."

"Hmm…" His brother looked at him skeptically for a moment but shrugged when Alphonse offered him no further explanation. "Are you okay now?"

Alphonse nodded his head as earnestly as he could and fell back into step with his brother.

This was hard. This was torture. His skin prickled, his stomach was spinning and he wanted to be violently ill.

Can't do this anymore. How can I do this? He's my brother. So stop it. Stop it you- you sick freak. What the hell is the matter with you?

He felt himself whine piteously in the back of his throat.

What if he knew? Would it be that bad? What if I just told him? Brother, he's an understanding person. He loves me. What if I just told him?

The beseeching voice in his head wanted this to end.

No, what you have now is better than losing him forever, right? Right? If you think you feel bad now, wait until he casts you away like some kind of diseased animal. That would be real torture. Can you face that ultimate rejection? Nothing in any life or any world or any universe or any gate or any spiritual plane could ever measure up to that pain.

He walked dejectedly, his head hung, his eyes downcast to the cracked sidewalks. He didn't see anything. He didn't notice the people walking past him and glaring as he failed to apologize for bumping into them, for not watching where he was going.

But even when he couldn't see anything, when the world was a dark blank slate and all he had were his miserable thoughts, he still had that flash of gold, the concerned eyes and the reassuring smile in the back of his mind. It wouldn't leave. Wouldn't leave. Wouldn't Leave!

He wasn't even aware he had reached his temporary home, climbed the stairs to the main room and was seated on the chesterfield.

He was pulled back into reality by the soft thud and the cushion sinking in beside him.

His brother almost touched his arm, but hesitated. Alphonse didn't have to see his brother do it. He could feel the static sensation well enough.

He can't be suspicious. Don't let him think anything is wrong. Reassure him, reassure him.

Alphonse turned his head and smiled brightly at his brother. "I feel much better now that we're home, brother. It must have been the heat outside that made me feel so off colour. We were out there all day you know."

His brother looked disappointed in him and his obvious lie, "Al, please, if you have a problem, talk to me. If you can't talk to me about it, who can you…?"

"Brother…" Alphonse hesitated. No, he would never tell him about that demon in his chest. He couldn't lose the only person, the most important person, in his life.

"Brother, you like me right?"

His brother's expression changed from concern to puzzlement. "Of course I do."

"You aren't sick of having me around all day, are you? Would you rather I went away for awhile. To give you some space, or something?"

"Is this the thing that's been bothering you" his brother gave a sigh of relief and laid a hand lightly over Alphonse's own.

Hold in your emotions. Hold them in, don't let him see you flinch. Can he feel my heart? Can he hear it pounding? Oh God, what if he can hear it?

Alphonse choked on his tongue at the touch but forced out words, though they sounded, in his own mind, thick and inhuman.

"Y- es, that's it."

"Of course I'm not sick of you. Don't be an idiot. After all these years together and everything we've been through, all the fights and suffering we had to endure to find each other. You think I'd tire of you that easily?"

"No, no I don't. I'm sorry, brother. I'm just being paranoid again," Alphonse gave a weak shrug. "You know how I am."

"So everything is okay then?"

"Hn." Alphonse gave a nod and his stomach flipped again.

"Okay. If you're sure."

His brother removed his hand and the spot that was left unoccupied became instantly cold. Daggers of ice pierced through his skin where tongues of scalding fire had only just been a moment ago.

Alphonse couldn't tell. Couldn't tell. Ever. Never ever. He would lose his most precious thing if he told. How could he take that risk?

But he was living on borrowed time, wasn't he? Every second he lived was a gift, a precious moment to grasp onto that he shouldn't have had the right to possess in the first place. Make the most of your time. Make the most of your time.

His mind wheeled and he began to feel dizzy as bright spots began to appear in his vision.

You can't live with this stress any longer. You can't hold down food and you can barely walk from one room to the next without almost falling into a dead faint.

You've faced bloodthirsty monsters. You've stared down death and survived. How can simple emotions have such an effect?

They aren't simple emotions though are they? They're twisted. They're wrong. What the hell are you thinking?

Alphonse raked his hands through his caramel-coloured hair and squeezed his eyes shut. Do it. Tell him. If he rejects you, if he tells you he hates you (he wouldn't tell me that, would he?) you can say it was a lame joke. You can, you can just… just tell him he misunderstood you if he rejects you. Tell him you meant it brotherly, platonically.

Alphonse roved desperately to every corner of his mind trying to think of a way to tell his brother that he had feelings -_feelings_- for him.

Who does that? Who has feelings like that? It doesn't matter anyway. Other people don't matter. What matters is right now. What matters is brother, and how the hell I'm going to do this.

I can't be afraid.  
I won't be afraid.

Just tell him. Tell him. Tell him now. Get it over with. You can't live like this anymore. Faking your way through life. You did that for years when you dragged around that armor. Be yourself now. You have a second chance.

Do it.

Do it now.

I'm not afraid.

I love him. I love him and it can't be wrong. It isn't wrong.

Alphonse let out a deep sigh and finally coming to a decision, moved his way toward the kitchen of their rented room. The walk to his brother was too short, he wasn't ready yet. He hadn't prepared himself enough. And yet his feet dragged and it felt like it was taking years to take just ten steps.

It's okay. He'll love you no matter what. Right? Right? He has to. He wouldn't live his life for you for all this time to get your body back to desert you now.

It'll be okay.

Not afraid.

I'm not afraid.

He reached the kitchen and cleared his throat awkwardly.

The silence stretched on for an eternity.

"Brother...? I need to... to talk to you."


	4. In My Head

**Prompt 097** - Author's Choice/ In my Head. Genre: Angst/Fluff. Rating: PG (for some language) 

_In my head _

_Your voice _

_You've got all that I need _

_And this make believe will get me through _

_Another lonely night_

- In My Head

0o0o0o0o0o0

Edward tossed and turned angrily in his bed, trying to find a spot on the mattress somewhere that didn't have a spring sticking out of it.

He could hear Al's armor creaking and scratching on the hardwood floor as he shifted himself, (we'll probably have to pay to have the floor damage repaired in the morning), Edward sighed heavily as he got a particularly sharp stab in his side.

A small voice called out from the dark corner, and if it weren't for the pale moonlight glinting off the armor, Al may well have been invisible. "Sorry, Brother, I don't mean to be so noisy. I'll try not to move if it keeps you awake."

Edward's frustration reached its breaking point and he sat up quickly. "It isn't you I'm sighing at, Al. Its this damn bed."

"Oh." Alphonse remained quiet and lack of facial expression made it difficult for Edward to guess what he was thinking about.

Edward ran his hand through his pillow-mussed hair and worked his fingers through the tangles. It wasn't just the mattress that was bothering him, and sleeping seemed like an entirely pointless pursuit now.

"Brother," Alphonse spoke up again in the hushed tone, "if that bed is hard to sleep in, why not try the other?"

Edward shifted his glance from the dark corner Al occupied to the other single bed, just a few steps next to his own.

"Al, that's your bed. Why aren't you using it?"

"You know I don't sleep Brother. Besides, it doesn't look sturdy enough to hold my weight."

The next words Alphonse said were so quietly spoken that Edward had to strain to hear, and he was unsure if Al had even meant for him to listen. "I can't feel the difference between the floor and a bed anyway."

The tone of voice Al spoke in was so lamenting that it made Edward feel as though a piece of his heart had just been ripped out viciously.

"Al, I'm sor-"  
Alphonse cut in, shaking his head and waving his apology away vigorously, "No, no don't apologize. I didn't mean anything by it."

Edward knew he didn't mean anything by it, Al didn't have a malicious bone in his body. But still, the tone of voice had been genuine and the feelings of regret were still there. Even if it hadn't been Alphonse's intent to make Edward feel like shit, that was certainly the way he felt now.

"Al," Edward began in a hesitant voice. "Even if you can't feel the difference, can you come sit over here anyway? I don't like it when you sit on the floor."

He felt so selfish, always his own feelings before Al's. But Alphonse rose obediently with a clunk that echoed loudly in the dark room, or at least in Edward's head, and moved across the room to sit on the bed next to Edward's.

When he sat down the bed gave a protesting groan and sagged dangerously low under Alphonse's weight. He remained where he sat, nonetheless, because that was what his brother wanted him to do.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now, Brother?" Alphonse asked.

Instead of lying back down and trying to sleep, Edward tossed away the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit in Alphonse's direction.

"I don't really feel very tired anymore," Edward said heavily.

"I see. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I just-" Edward shook his head and sighed heavily. He stared down at his bare knees and the bars of moonlight that shone in the window and splayed across his skin and glinted on Alphonse's armor.

"Brother?" Alphonse prompted gently.

"I just-" he looked anywhere but at his brother. "I know that you don't hate me, because you told me so. But, deep down a part of me still worries..."

"Well stop worrying! You know it isn't true and you'll only make yourself sick. Is this why you can't sleep?" Al somehow managed to make himself sound stern and concerned all at once and Edward wondered how it was he did it.

"No. That isn't it. Well, not completely anyway."

Edward plucked at the scratchy white sheets and shifted his weight awkwardly while Alphonse waited patiently for his brother to enlighten him.

After a few moments of silence, Edward broke it and said resignedly, "If I tell you, just don't get mad with me, Al."

Alphonse nodded. Edward knew it was a hard promise for Alphonse to make since he was always making him angry. Alphonse always yelled at him for acting irresponsibly, for failing to think things through properly, for getting into fights with people who insulted him, and most often for falling asleep with his stomach uncovered all the time. But in the apparent seriousness of the situation, Alphonse may have thought this above petty arguments and so agreed easily.

Alphonse didn't want him to be afraid to speak, as he had sometimes been before.

"Al, you're still the same brother to me, even if you look different on the outside. Nothing would ever change that between us. Never. But I still..." He trailed off, ashamed with himself for his feelings because this whole stupid mess was his fault, not Al's.

"But you still...?" Alphonse pressed.

"I feel... lonely, Al," he said in a muffled voice. "You're here with me, just like you always have been, and I'm so grateful, but it's-"

Edward slammed his metal fist into the mattress and spoke in an angry, rushed voice. "It isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. It was all my stupid decision, and I hate myself for it. But I can't help..."

He clenched his jaw painfully and gripped the bed sheets until the knuckles on his flesh hand turned white. He didn't have it in himself to meet Al's eyes, so he stared at the floor until he felt a heavy palm on his shoulder and the bed shifted drastically with Alphonse's weight.

"You have to stop blaming yourself for this," Alphonse said, motioning to his body. " It was my decision to bring back mom also, I helped you every step of the way. So stop feeling so guilty." He gave a resigned laugh, "Being a suit of armor isn't an ideal situation for anyone, but I could have died altogether. I'm so thankful to you for allowing me to live even this much. You gave a part of yourself so I could still be here."

He paused and looked down at Edward, who still refused to look anywhere but the floor.

"But, I don't entirely understand your feelings. Why are you lonely? Do you need someone else here? You must be sick of me being around all the time."

Edward pulled his head up forcefully, a sharp glare on his face. "What the hell do you mean, sick of you? Of course that isn't it. I don't need anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Brother, I'm just trying my best to understand."

"What I need Al, is for you to come back. The way you used to be. I'll never give up, I'll never die, I'll live forever if that's how long it takes until you return to normal. What I need is to see you smile again. And when I touch you," he said, laying a hand on Alphonse's metal arm, "I want to feel warmth. I want to feel a pulse. And I want you to feel it too."

"That's what I want too, Brother. I'll keep going until you have your arm and leg back!"

Edward looked up at his younger brother through his eyelashes. "Just for tonight, Al, Since I'm wide awake, will you just sit here with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course I will, Brother."

Edward kneeled up on the bed and pulled on Alphonse's hand until he was sitting in front of the headboard and moved himself to lay his head in Al's lap.

"Isn't this too uncomfortable for you to sleep, Brother?" Alphonse asked him, his voice, rather than appearance betraying that he was feeling flustered.

"Compared to lumpy bedsprings and itchy sheets, this is heaven, Al," he replied, holding Alphonse's arm to his chest and resting his head atop it like a pillow.

And he thought, as sleep began to tug at him, 'Just for tonight I'll pretend he's back to normal. This will have to be enough until I can get his body back to him, back to me. This will have to be enough to cure away this loneliness from my heart.'

Just for tonight I'll pretend I can hear a heartbeat in his chest, I'll pretend I can feel his breath on my face. I'll pretend I can feel a pulse here in his arm, and that his skin feels soft, and warm. And I'll pretend that he can smile down at me as he drifts off into a sleep that's been denied him so many years.'

Just for tonight.'

It may have been make-believe, but it was better at putting Edward to sleep than even the most comfortable mattress in the world.


	5. Reverie

Author: Noodleslove

Rating: PG

Prompt: 18 - Reverie

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 503 Warning:

One-sided Al/Ed.  
Notes: I am sorry for this fic. I hate writing angst and I hate one-sided Elricest. It goes against everything I love about the pairing. Not to mention I am 100 percent confident Edward would never react this way.  
But I hope it can be enjoyed anyway?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

_Left here alone _

_And unsure of what I feel _

_Unclear but I see _

_Just what I'm afraid of_

_I can't find my way anymore _

_And I _

_Cannot heal the wounds _

_I've created _

_And I can't let go _

_Of what's killing me_

-Reverie

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

What do you do when the person you live for leaves you forever?

Al relished the taste of the apple pie Winry baked for him, just like she promised she would when he got his body back.

He marveled at the silky feel of Den's thick black fur under his fingers.

He winced in pain when he knocked his knee against a table leg, or when his elbow smashed into a doorframe.

And for two long years he thought, dreamt, fantasized about the time he would finally reunite with his older brother.

Feel the musical rhythm of his brother's heartbeat underneath his palm.  
Laugh at the ticklish sensation of his brother's breath against his ear when he spoke.  
Fall asleep curled into the warmth of his brother's side.

When Alphonse found his brother those sensations were even more perfect than any of his wild imaginings ever were.

And his brother was so happy to see him too. Alphonse knew it from the words he spoke, and the way he let Alphonse rest his head on his shoulder as he ran slow fingers through his hair. ("Your skin is so warm." "Al, your hair got so long! And it's really soft too." "I'd almost forgotten what a beautiful colour your eyes are." "Everything we went through, Al, it was worth it just to see that smile again.")

These things, they all meant something, didn't they?  
Their feelings were in tune, weren't they?

And surely, if Alphonse could turn against the currents of the world and come up with breath renewed in his body, surely, surely he could have these feelings and have them reciprocated?

Maybe in theory.

So when Alphonse lay next to his brother one night, content in the sound of their twin heartbeats and synchronized breath, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he lifted his head and pressed his lips softly, sweetly, against his brother's own.

But the reaction was not supposed to be like this and Alphonse's dream was shattered into so many fragments there would never be a way to repair it.

"Al? What… what the hell!"

It was all wrong. His brother was supposed to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes and smile warmly against Al's mouth.

He wasn't supposed to shove him away.

Look so terrified and hurt.

He wasn't supposed to tell him how wrong it was. Sick and confused. He wasn't supposed to grab his coat and slam the door, mirroring the sound of Alphonse's own heart breaking reverberating in his ears.

His brother was supposed to come back quickly, tell him he had just been scared of his own feelings, but it was okay now. They could live happily ever after.

Alphonse didn't get his body returned to him just so he could feel like this.  
And he knew things could never go back to the way they were.

So, what do you do when the person you live for leaves you forever?

What else is there to do, but to stop living?


	6. As I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Prompt: 002 – As I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Author: Noodleslove

Rating: G

Genre: General

Word Count: 303

Notes: If anyone has seen the last scene of the last episode of FMA they will probably understand where this comes from. Takes place before, and after the Movie.

I wrote two different versions of this fic and then sort of combined them in the end. And despite tons of editing and revising I'm still terribly dissatisfied with how it turned out. But I hope it can be enjoyed anyway.

_Though I'm far away  
I'll whisper your name  
Into the sky  
And I will wake up happy_

- As I Lay Me Down to Sleep

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sky was an infinitely distressing thing, yet Edward acquired a sort of twisted comfort in it, and found himself in the habit of stretching his arms toward it, reaching for an invisible gate.

Hoping that, perhaps, if he could just grip it tightly in his palm, clutch a piece of the sky he was sure they shared, their worlds would be connected and his brother would be returned to him.

Such a simple and somehow incomprehensible thing separated them, and Edward was almost certain that if he kept reaching, reaching, even if his muscles burned in his arms and his bones creaked in protest, the boundary would be crossed and the reunion he ached for would be his.

So he reached up and higher still, despite the looks he received from passengers on the train, families on the sidewalk, people enjoying the sun.

He reached and called that precious name into the sky.

(Maybe he'll hear my voice and find his way to me).

And when his muscles gave out and his arms were strained to the breaking point, hanging limply, uselessly at his side, he stared up and willed the sky with every strand and every cell, every part of his being, to open wide and return what was rightfully his.

Every single day he lifted his hands to find that invisible gate until, despite his frustration, they fell like lead to his side once more. Edward counted every one of those days, seconds, and moments.

But when his blood was finally returned to him, Edward's habit was broken. Reaching to up toward the sky seemed a waste of his precious time when he could spend it rushing through the grass in a flurry to meet his brother, desperately reaching out instead, to embrace his purpose with worn and weary arms.


	7. Tomorrow

Prompt – 36: Tomorrow

Author: Noodleslove

Rating: G

Genre: Angst/Fluff?

Word count: 1,134

Notes: This is Ed/Al but it also contains ONE-SIDED Winry/Ed.

Takes place in future MANGA-VERSE. Shortly after Al recovers his body. So none of that weird, disappearing anime stuff.

_It's always been up to you,  
It's turning around.  
It's up to me,  
I'm gonna do what I have to do._

-Tomorrow

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Edward cringed when he heard the phone ring, the shrill noise setting his already frazzled nerves on edge. He knew who it was calling, and he wished she wouldn't.

Wished she'd leave him in peace for just a day. Enough to sort out, well he wasn't sure what needed to be fixed, just that it had to be done soon.

He rushed to the phone, hoping to grab the receiver before Al heard it, but he knew it was hopeless. The house Edward built for them was so quiet recently that even the tiniest breath echoed off the walls for what seemed an eternity.

"Hello?" he whispered nervously into the phone, glancing around the wall to see what Al was doing in the next room.

Edward barely listened to the feminine voice on the other end of the line as he watched his brother shift restlessly on a chair. A pained expression crossed that face as he adjusted his legs, still trying to get used to the sensations that had been deprived of him all those years.

When he finished speaking he set down the receiver slowly, delicately, trying not to make a sound. He walked casually into the family room where Alphonse was seated. So casually that his brother shot him a suspicious glance.

"Who was that?" he asked airily, though Edward could feel the frustration pouring off him in thick black waves.

"Oh, it was nobody. Winry. She wanted to know if I- We, I mean," he corrected himself quickly. "If we wanted to come over for dinner tonight."

"Hmm, and what did you tell her?" Al asked him, examining his fingernails lightly, as though the conversation, or Edward's response, were of no consequence.

"I turned her down."

Alphonse looked up, a restless fury in his eyes, his countenance dangerously dark as he said, "I think you were right the first time, Brother."

"Sorry?" Edward said, his features laced with confusion.

"When you said, 'she wanted to know if I wanted to come over.' She wants you there not me. She didn't invite me."

"Of course she did, Al. It was just a slip of the tongue, that's all," Edward replied, his hands raised defensively.

Al's eyes flashed and he stood up slowly, his legs shaking slightly, still not used to carrying the weight of his body around.

"We've been dancing around this issue for weeks, Brother, since I got my body back, and I'm sick of it. You must be too."

"Wh- what do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid," Al said, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm sick of this! I'm sick of it! I hate being the third wheel around here, Brother!"

"Al, what are you talking-"

"Stop it! Stop it, Brother!" Alphonse said, voice growing louder. "You know exactly what I'm talking about! Winry likes you. She probably loves you!"

"Al, I can't be with Winry because I… Because you…" Edward protested weakly.

"Because you're stuck here taking care of me because I'm 'too weak' to take care of myself. Why don't you just go to her? Ask her to move in here with you. I'll leave! I'll go. I'm sick of coming between you! I hate this!" he yelled, gesturing wildly with his arms.

"That isn't it at all! It has nothing to do with that Al," Edward said, balling his hands into fists at his side.

"Will you just stop thinking about me for once and do what you want?" Al replied sharply.

"No, I won't stop thinking about you, because you won't stop and think about yourself for a second!" Edward yelled back, his temper flaring dangerously.

Alphonse had dealt with that temper for his whole life, and wouldn't be intimidated into backing down. He approached his brother violently and put his face just inches away from Edward's.

"I'm not some stupid little child who has to follow you around like a puppy anymore! I can be on my own! I can do things for myself! And I know you would be happier if I did leave!"

Edward gripped his head with his hands tightly, and ran his hands angrily through his hair. "Would you just listen to yourself? You sound like an idiot, ranting and raving like that! Just- just shut up for five minutes, will you?"

Hot tears sprang to Alphonse's eyes and he cursed himself for getting emotional. He had to stand up and make his point, not cry like a hurt little girl. He rubbed angrily at his face until it hurt and screamed brokenly, his voice thick with tears, "Brother, I just want you to be happy!"

The anger seeped out of Edward's pores like a toxic sweat and he said quietly, as if he were afraid the vibrations of his voice would be enough to shatter his brother completely, "Dammit, Al. Can't you see that I am happy? With you. With us. With things the way they are now."

Alphonse fell to his knees collapsing into himself, his weak and emaciated body shaking roughly with the force of his sobs.

Edward dropped to his side and held his brother gently in his arms, brushing the hair away from his face and wiping the tears from his flushed cheeks.

"This is why you've been on edge lately?" Edward asked, his voice barely audible.

Alphonse nodded, almost imperceptibly, and he wiped his face roughly on his sleeve, quelling the tears that didn't want to stop.

"Al," Ed said, rubbing his back soothingly to stop Al's body from shaking, "I have never once in my life thought of you as a burden or a third wheel. And all that time I was recovering from surgery and learning to use my automail, who was the one who took care of me?"

"I did," Al, said, hiccuping, and resting his head on Edward's shoulder, his neck and shoulders aching from the heavy emotions he had carried with him these last few weeks.

"Did you ever think of me as a burden?"

"No, but that's completely different!" he objected. "This isn't just about me, and getting my body back. This is about you and Winry. She loves you, Brother, and I hate being the one standing in the way of that!"

"You keep saying, 'Winry loves you,' and 'Winry feels,' but did you ever think about how I felt?"

"Yes! And that's why-"

"But I don't," Edward cut him off, "feel like that."

Alphonse fought to lift his head from his brother's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You don't? But I thought…"

"You thought wrong. I don't want Winry, I never have."

He clutched Alphonse, as tightly as he would allow himself without causing pain to his brother's intensely sensitive body, afraid to let him go and risk losing him again.

"I just want you…"


	8. The Sacrament

Prompt: 14 – The Sacrament

Rating: G

Genre: Angst

Word count: 312

Warnings: Implied character death. Dream sequences? (Al, I love you so much, you are my fave in the series and if you ever died for real I would cry for years. Sorry Al, I love you! ; 3; ).

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_I hear you breathe so far from me  
I feel your touch so close and real  
And I know  
_

_I hear you weep so far from me  
I taste your tears like you're next to me  
And I know  
_

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The first time he opened his eyes he turned his head and found his brother nestled in the crook of his arm. The sun was painting delicate designs of lace across his cheek, the breeze from the open window running gentle fingers of wind through his pillow-mussed hair.

A faint smile graced Edward's features as he watched the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest, and heard the soft sounds he made when his breath passed his lips.

He thought this must be what perfect happiness feels like. It wasn't the kind of happiness that made you burst into laughter, or made your nose wrinkle up in excitement. It was a calm, soft sort of feeling. If emotion had been a painting, Edward thought this happiness would be a watercolour: mild, serene and slightly blurred around the edges.

He basked in it.

The second time he opened his eyes he turned his head and found… an empty pillow. He felt his heart contract and his airways were suddenly, painfully, constricted. He gripped the sheet lying across his lap until his knuckles turned white, clutched at his chest beneath his thin cotton shirt, the cold metal of his hand stinging him. His face grew hot and he realized that tears were coursing down his cheeks, his eyes beginning to burn.

Was it a blessing to relive those happier moments in a dream? They would only be ripped away from you viciously upon awakening, leaving you an empty husk of what you used to be in those times past. Or would it be a better thing to never remember, never relive those instances of peace?

Edward didn't know. Guessed he didn't have time to sit and contemplate on it.

He put on his black suit and opened the curtains.

It was raining.

But didn't it always rain on the day of a funeral?

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Notes: I apologize for the delay in posting everyone. I have three fics for the challenge half-written, and all three of them, I imagine, will end up being about 15,000-20,000 words long, so please be patient with me. It takes me a long time to hand-write them, type them and edit them twice. x3

So please cheer me on :3


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